In Memories: Kotowari
by P.P.V.V
Summary: COMPLETE! Wherein Kenshin begins to forget. And forgetting means death. Can he hold on long enough to see the one he loves once more? Will he even remember her? K/K Some memories are worth living for.
1. Prologue: In Memories

**In Memories Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V. **

_Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin does not belong to me, but the wonderful Watsuki. This is a standard Disclaim._

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**Summary:** Wherein Kenshin begins to forget. And forgetting means death. Can he hold on long enough to see the one he loves? (K/K) A series of interwoven one-shots. Some memories are worth living for.

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**AN**: Hello, all. I've gone off on a tangent from my usual works and writing style but I enjoyed the challenge. I hope you enjoy it, too. Here are a couple of notes to keep in mind before you begin reading.

1) This fanfiction will contain spoilers for Seisouhen.

2) It is made up of short, disjointed one-shots that all connect in one way or another.

3) There are vague indications of Japanese culture, but nothing that really warrants translation.

And finally 4) The title "_In Memories: Ko-to-wa-ri_" is from the _Rurouni Kenshin Tsuiokuhen Original Theatrical Soundtrack_. That said, please enjoy.

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**PROLOGUE**

**-In Memories-**

There were words.

And snippets of colors and places.

But mostly words.

_Home._

_Home_ was the word that came to mind most often. But just as quickly as it came, it would leave, brushing his mind in a teasing, almost malicious manner. It filled his heart, and left it void. It kept him sane, yet drove him to depression.

Oh, how he wanted to go home!

…What was the meaning of the word again?

In confusion, the man turned his eyes out over the water, not caring that there was a slight chilling bite to the air. The cries of birds circling the beach just beyond the shack he'd holed himself in filled the air, making his ears ring and his head throb.

The pain seemed to travel from there, down his throat, to his limbs, burning and stabbing and…and…

He coughed, his breath wheezing, hacking, squeezing his lungs as he tried to gather more air but struggled to. His hand caught onto the windowsill, the only thing that kept him upright as he succumbed to his weakness and his small body trembled with the effort of fighting back.

When he was able to gather enough bearing, he realized that there was a foul smell in the air: rotten fish and rotten flesh. But soon, even that thought flew from his mind, as though it wasn't important. As though it never existed.

There was something calming about the ocean, so he satisfied himself with looking out over the horizon, knowing something beyond it was out of reach.

Something beyond it was important.

For what seemed like an eternity, he stared.

Eventually, the sun set, casting a fiery glow to the sky and in return, the ocean reflected it, bathing him in orange and violet and red.

Red.

That was the color of his hair, he remembered. It had fallen loose from the string that usually held it back. Long thin strands made the back of his neck itch and hung lazily by his bandage-wrapped chest. They picked up with the sudden wind that gusted in so that they tickled his face. Absently, he brought a hand up to swipe them aside.

As the day reluctantly gave way to night, the man distinctly felt fatigue dig itself into his skin. He turned to go to his pallet, a motion that his body had come to memorize.

_Your name..._

The thought came to him, unbidden. Blinking his eyes, he tried to grasp that thread of mental stability. He breathed a deep, rattling sigh as he rose to the challenge of piecing it together with other words despite how weary he felt.

_What is your name?_

That command made his determination falter.

He was so tired of trying to make sense of things! He wanted to surrender, to give up. Why on earth was he continuing to torture himself like this?

An innate stubbornness narrowed amber-coloured eyes and screamed angrily at him.

_**No.**_

_No, try to remember._

Tears of frustration sprung forth and he was unable to stop them from falling down his cheeks.

Just one word.

What word was it?

Fingers buried themselves into his hair as he summoned every ounce of energy into trying to remember it.

In his mind's eye, he saw a face, with eyes as hard as stones and as intense as a wild beast's. Familiar and terrifying, it made his heart pound when it frowned in disapproval. It opened its mouth to speak just as he won the battle over his tongue which tripped over itself with his revelation.

"K..."

The sound of his voice sounded foreign. He forced himself to concentrate.

_My name..._

"K...Ke..."

_My name is..._

"Kenshin."

**To Be Continued...**

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**AN:** Thank you for taking the time to read this and giving it a chance. Please review and let me know your thoughts. Until the next chapter,

-P.P.V.V.


	2. In Essence

**In Memories Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V. **

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim Applies_

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**AN:** I'm aware that a lot of people don't like Seisouhen. I know I didn't. But this idea and challenge hit me while I was working and I thought to give it a try. Again, because this story is about Kenshin trying to remember, there will be flashbacks of his memories in first person.

Thank you to those who reviewed. It means the world to me. What a great welcome into this community! You guys are the best!

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**Chapter 2**

**- In Essence -**

Master was not very tolerant. Come to think of it, he was not very lenient either. He was a perfectionist in every sense of the word. If there was something he disliked more than anything, it was making a mistake. Unfortunately for me, I made many of those and often.

He was always picking up after me, always scolding me and always, _always_ letting me feel the repercussions of my failures.

I can, however, say that that Hiko Seijuro was patient. For all his sarcasm and biting remarks, he put up with me. How, is still a mystery. He was something I could never imagine myself being, yet constantly strived to.

His very essence was power.

In short, my Master astounded me.

"What are you staring at, Kenshin?"

At first, I didn't think he was talking to me, but when he raised an eyebrow expectantly, I blushed.

Yes, of course.

I had a new name, now.

Ducking my head, embarrassed, I mumbled, "Sorry, sir." I hadn't noticed that I had been gaping at the man while he had been speaking.

He set his mouth into that disapproving line that I had grown accustomed to seeing over the course of my three-week stay. "Pay attention!" he ordered, jabbing a large finger at the pieces of paper in front of me. His hands were huge, calloused from wielding the sword yet gentle enough to mould clay into something beautiful.

Gentle enough to soothe a nightmare-ridden child to sleep every night.

Still, I couldn't help my flinch and I obediently trained my eyes onto the blank sheets. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

He grumbled something under his breath before motioning to the brush in front of me. "You have two hours. You'd better have memorized everything by then."

"Yes, sir."

"I don't want lip service, boy," he all but snarled. "I won't have people thinking that my student is stupid as well as an idiot, do you hear me?"

His glare was intimidating. I swear I lost my breath somewhere between my lungs and my pharynx. Meekly, I nodded and he gave me one last warning look and got to his feet to leave.

Did I mention that he was huge? He towered a good six-and-a-half feet, every inch of him covered in muscle. If I could compare him with something, I'd call him a mountain. Strong, sturdy and immovable. When Master decided on something, he did not budge from it.

And he'd decided that I would not get any swords training until I had mastered basic reading and writing.

_Discipline your mind before you discipline your body_. Those were his words.

As soon as the sliding door closed behind him, I managed to breathe properly. Master could get scary when he wanted to.

I picked up my brush.

It was a simple enough task to learn characters. He'd given me a set to memorize and practice writing. Master had certainly made things look easy. Somehow, my strokes, no matter how hard I tried, did not look as elegant as his.

When the two hours were up, I was more than ready to call it quits. If there was one thing I did not want to do any more, it was to disappoint the man I had come to look up to.

I found myself holding my breath again as he examined my work with his critical eyes. His youthful face remained blank the entire time, causing me to wonder just what thoughts were running through his head.

"Go set the table," he said, suddenly, not looking up from the sheets I had given him.

I knew better than to ask questions.

Was this his test to see if I was worthy enough to make it as his apprentice? Many times that question was my motivation to do better. After having lost so much, I could not bear to lose anything more.

He was the only one who saw something in me.

The only one who cared enough to help.

The only one who shared the same morals as I did.

I could not lose him.

Dinner was quiet as it always was. Master was not one to make small talk. If ever he did say something, it was either to lecture me on a principle or to reprimand me over something I'd done wrong.

All throughout the meal, I kept waiting for him to burst out that he'd finally had enough and that he could not waste his time on someone like me anymore. My bottom lip suffered at the worrying of my teeth.

His chopsticks clacked together, snapping me out of my reverie, almost causing me to spill my soup. "Are you daydreaming again?" he demanded, his voice deep, his tone filled with exasperation.

To my dismay, I squeaked, "Sorry, sir."

"It's a bad habit," he said, shaking his dark bangs out of his eyes so that he could stare me down more effectively. They were as hard as stones and as intense as a wild beast's. No wonder his gaze alone could freeze people in their tracks.

I fumbled with my bowl and glanced down at my lap. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Those words were automatic, drilled into me for longer than I remembered. They tumbled from my mouth without my having to think about them. More often than not, they brought safety from a beating so it was no wonder I doled them out eagerly.

He coughed, uncomfortably. "Listen, Kenshin." Here, he paused, and curiosity won over caution and I peered up at him. He seemed to be waiting for that because he gave me a tiny nod when I met his gaze. "I know it's hard. It's only going to get harder. But you're no longer a slave, nor are you a peasant boy. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." I didn't know if I was supposed to feel relieved or anxious.

"I am not your Overlord. I am your Master. You will address me as such."

"Yes si…Master," I hastily corrected myself.

Again, I was awarded with another tiny nod.

With a gesture, he dismissed the topic, and silently commanded me to return to my meal. This time I did so with the utmost attention, lest he call me out on being a dreamer again.

It was toward the end of the meal that he finally spoke again and his words were enough to set me at ease.

"You did good, today, Kenshin."

The praise, though slight, filled me with pride.

I could do this.

I could do anything.

**To Be Continued...**

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**AN:** Please, please review! I'm a little apprehensive as to my writing the first person point of view. I know I had fun writing though! I hope you found it just as enjoyable to read. I'd like to know what you thought.

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	3. Realizations

**In Memories Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies._

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**AN:** I can't tell you how thankful I am to the RK community here. I'm surprised at the welcome and encouragement I've received so far from everybody, even knowing that this story is based off of the darker shade of Rurouni Kenshin. For that, and for your reviews, I thank you. You've given me the courage to write this next instalment. Here's to hoping that you'll enjoy it.

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**Chapter 3**  
**- Realizations -**

He remembered a white cape with a red trim and the way it seemed to flap around in a majestic manner. Along with the cape, he remembered a man.

The vision brought with it a sense of safety and security.

Nothing could harm him.

He tried now to bury himself in that feeling, but to his dismay it began to fade, being replaced by a sense of foreboding.

And pain.

It lanced through his body mercilessly, uncontrollable, erasing all other thoughts, reaching its fingers over every inch of his structure it could find.

But he would not give in.

Prying himself out of the dingy excuse of a pallet, he stumbled to the door. He wanted to be close to the ocean. There, he could find some comfort, some distraction from the hurt.

If he could just see...

...see what?

Firmly, he grasped the idea of moving, and his body obeyed, his feet carrying him past the doorway and into the warmth of the morning sun. Grains of sand wedged themselves in between his socks and slippers. A part of him was tempted to remove both just to have the feel of it against his skin, but he couldn't be bothered. He wasn't willing to undergo any more pain, so he pushed the idea from his mind.

The man felt slightly triumphant when he managed to perch himself on a low ledge that faced the waters. The sense of longing in his heart grew and he worked to understand it.

So intent was he that he was surprised by a voice, calling out a single word.

His name.

Yes, he had recalled it yesterday.

Slowly, he turned his head, eyes leading, to stare at a man whom he knew he should have recognized, but didn't.

The stranger was dressed in robes that must have once been white but were now so worn that no amount of washing would make it the same. A tattered, equally worn cape was draped around him, probably used for multiple purposes on his journey. His hair was long, reaching his shoulders, a red bandana tied around it, flapping in the wind. His eager face melted into one of shock and...what was the word?

Sorrow?

Why?

For some reason, he wanted to erase that look from the man's face.

Then he was being talked to, reasoned with, pulled and pushed, things happening much too quickly for him to keep up with. His brain felt close to overloading as he struggled to understand. He wanted to run away but found himself leaning against the man as he was led back to his shack once again.

The man was patient enough, his questions ceasing when he was given no responses to them.

When they reached the shack, he stumbled away from the stranger toward his window, breaking loose, forgetting that he had company. There, he stared out at the sea as he usually did, but this time the back of his mind whispered to him. "_Return, return, return_," it said.

Return.

Yet another word that promised normalcy from his world of confusion so he snatched at it desperately. He was so caught up with his battle to retain that train of thought that he lost his duel with the pain in his body. It brought him to his knees in a coughing fit that seemed to set his very lungs on fire.

"Kenshin!"

The man's voice.

In despair, he clutched at the stranger who had crouched down beside him, worriedly. "Ke...Ken...shin...re..re-turn..." he forced the words from his lips, willing the man to understand.

He knew, somehow, that this man would know what to do.

Somewhere, in the back of his heart, he knew that this man would do anything for him.

"Wait right here, Kenshin. I'm going to get a doctor!"

And his friend – yes, he was a friend, he realized – ran out the door.

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**AN:**Short and brief. But that's the way all of the chapters are going to be because that's just the style I've chosen to write with. Again, I'd appreciate your feedback. Please let me know what you think and review.

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	4. Instinct

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V. **

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

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**AN:** I think I'm on a roll. This story is so much fun to write, no matter how dark. No matter how many people dislike the OVA. I guess it's because it's so different from my other pieces, from my usual writing style. If you've come back to read this fourth offering, I hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter 4**

**- Instinct -**

He was loud, reckless and brazen. He loved challenges almost as much as he loved food, and wasn't ever afraid to back away from a fight. In fact, he went out looking for them.

That was how Sanosuke and I met, actually. He went out looking to pick a fight with me, of all people, despite knowing who I was and what I could do. Not that I'm bragging or anything, but his sheer courage amazed me. As if that were not strange enough, we became the best of friends.

We were different in every way, from height to demeanour. Sanosuke loved showing off his strength and abilities while I wanted nothing more than to keep my skills – and my past – a secret. I preferred staying inconspicuous, whereas Sanosuke liked grand entrances, shooting off his mouth with every swear word he could think of at the enemy. He was the type to run into things, relying on brash instinct instead of careful planning.

When he wasn't out gambling or starting up brawls, he was visiting me. I don't know if it occurred to him how much his presence was valued. My friends were few and far between. I knew that despite his bold exterior, he would do anything for me.

"It's such a waste of talent," he mourned, on one such day. One of his legs was bent close to his chest, his right arm draped across it. His other leg dangled off the veranda in a lazy manner. He was chewing something as was his habit: Sano would not be Sano if he didn't have something in his mouth when he wasn't sleeping.

I glanced up from the laundry I was doing, wanting to scratch at a particularly itchy spot on my neck but not being able to without getting my clothes wet. I'd have to endure it until I was finished. "What's a waste of talent?"

His eyes flashed angrily, trying to figure out if I was trying to provoke him. "Look at you!" he fumed, "Doing laundry like some sort of slave."

My mouth twitched but I hid it quickly. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "I've got to do my part around here," I told him, calmly. I knew exactly where this was going. It was an argument he and I had had before. "Besides," I reached down to continue to scrub at a stubborn stain on the collar of one of my shirts, "if I don't do it, no one else will." I gave him a goofy grin, hoping to ease his hot temper. Almost anything could set him off. "I wouldn't want the burden to fall on you."

He snorted, leaning his back against one of the wooden posts of the house, his indignant manner falling away. "I still think it's a waste of time. And it's a woman's job."

I glanced furtively around the garden and he caught my action, only to mimic it. Again, my mouth twitched in amusement. If the Lady of the house had heard him, she would no doubt be angry at his choice of wording. Trust Sano to say something without thinking first. "What I meant was, a man of your calibre shouldn't be here doing chores. You should be out there using your skills," he amended.

"Using my skills?" I murmured, not in question, but in disapproval. The thought alone made my skin crawl. With more vigour, I scrubbed at the clothing, feeling like my hands were somehow covered in blood.

Seemingly oblivious to my discomfort, Sanosuke ploughed on. "You could be raking in the money!" he said. "Do you know how much people would pay you to guard them?"

"You know I won't ask people to repay me for my help," I said, with a shake of my head. The small action reminded me that I had to give myself a trim. My hair was entirely too long for its own good. For the umpteenth time, I toyed with the thought of chopping it all off.

He continued as if he hadn't heard me. "And just imagine how you'd help the Lady out."

Here, I winced. It was true that the Lady did the majority of the work for our income. It was barely enough to keep her land paid for, not to mention her boarders fed. Imagining myself bringing home wages was very tempting but at the same time, doing so would probably make her upset. No, it was enough that I helped out in this way. "I'll stick with doing the laundry," I said, at last.

Sanosuke must have heard the disapproving tone in my voice because he switched tactics. "It's a shame that you're keeping the talent to yourself."

My hands finally stopped their scrubbing. "I will not teach anyone!" My voice came out a little harsher than I'd intended. A little louder than necessary. It caused him to start in surprise. I forced myself to calm down a bit. "My skills...they are not needed anymore..." Slowly, I bent back to my task not wanting to meet his eyes. Hoping to ease the sudden tension in the air, I added, "I am no Master."

His chuckle calmed me down more. "Damn straight you're not. Who could take you seriously with your height?"

Ah, this ground was much safer to tread upon. I was used to people making fun of me, so I didn't take offense at his words. Instead, I smiled, to show him that all was forgiven and that we would not argue any more about the earlier topic.

He pulled at his bandana, with a dramatic sigh. "All work and no play will make you an old man," he warned.

It was my turn to chuckle. "I'm getting there. When I do, heaven help me but I'll have to depend on you."

He caught my jibe and launched himself from the veranda. In two quick strides he was by my side, catching me up in a playful headlock. "Whaddaya mean by that?" he growled. "I'm reliable! Take it back!" His fingers buried themselves in my red mane. "Hey, Kenshin! Take it back!""

My laughter rang out over the courtyard.

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**AN:** I think I could get used to writing such short chapters. I think I'm spoiling myself. In any case, I hope I managed to keep the characters in Canon. I'd love your thoughts and comments on this piece. Make my day by reviewing, please!

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	5. Repetition

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

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**AN:** Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm absolutely thrilled. I know it's disjointed and rather angsty, but it can't be helped. I hope you enjoy this next installment.

Onward.

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**Chapter 5**

**- Repetition -**

Warmth.

The smell of food.

But most of all, the feeling of comfort in the presence of another. It seemed to bring the man out of his shell, out of his uncertainty. Currently, he was trying his best to keep his memories in order.

His friend sat by the fire, stoking it, turning his catch of fish around so that all the sides could cook evenly.

He tried not to be distracted by the rumbling in his stomach, by the actions of his company. He watched with dulled amethyst eyes as his friend – Sanosuke, Sanosuke, Sanosuke! – used strong, adept fingers, to shove more firewood into the pit before settling himself down to monitor his cooking.

Unable to do anything but hunch over, he pried his eyes away, telling himself to concentrate, so that he wouldn't forget again. Because forgetting was like losing a part of his soul and it hurt him more than the disease that ravaged his body.

He tested the names, repeating them, as if saying them aloud would help him remember.

"Kenshin...Sanosuke..."

The sound of his mumbling must have been heard because Sanosuke glanced up at him. "Hey, you don't have to push yourself so hard to remember everything," he scolded, but he did not sound angry. Instead, he sounded cheerful, most probably so that he did not scare him away. "What you need is your strength back. Here," he grasped one of the sticks that he had skewered a fish onto, "it's done! Eat up!" And with that, he proceeded to fling one out to him.

The food sailed in the air toward him, covering the short distance in seconds, but to him, it felt like an eternity. During that time, he became confused again, trying to both understand Sanosuke's words and complete the action of catching his meal. The rumbling in his stomach made him lose concentration and through dulled reflexes, his body responded much too late. His raised hand missed the fish entirely and it fell with a thud onto his lap, the warmth of it searing through the material of his pants and burning his skin.

Even then, he could not make his body move fast enough and he stared at the food numbly.

When he met Sanosuke's stricken gaze, he somehow forced himself to complete the action of picking it up. Afterwards, his body seemed to move on its own, biting through the soft underbelly of the fish, tearing a chunk of the filling with his teeth. The taste was welcome, the flavour of hot food very different from that of the berries and nuts and plants that he had been living off of.

He became aware of the fact that his friend had gotten up and was making his way toward him. Still, he continued to eat, too hungry to stop. The food seemed to perk him up, make him feel a bit more energetic, clearing away a bit of the fog that had wrapped itself around his brain.

"Taste good?"

There was a brief pause as he drank in the question and was pleased to note that he understood it. The barest hint of a smile made its way onto his face, and he wished he could form the right word but settled on an answer in the form of a nod.

To his surprise, he was met with a fierce glower filled with rage and anguish. He didn't know what to make of it and flinched when Sanosuke suddenly moved forward. Dropping his food, fish forgotten over the fear of getting hurt, he recoiled.

Heart hammering in his chest, time seemed to slow again as another part of his mind reasoned with him that this man – who was he again? – was not going to hurt him. It was right, because the abrupt movement was actually an embrace, a little rough, but well-meaning.

Attention now completely split into several different directions, he stayed, rooted in the spot, breath hitching and vision swimming with the recollection of a different pair of hands, reaching out, embracing, bringing comfort despite his pain.

And her voice, with words he couldn't quite remember, was just as soothing, just as healing, just as gentle as her touch.

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** I can't help but be inspired. I should have the next chapter edited and up by the weekend if all goes well. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Please do leave me reviews. They're the best form of inspiration!

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	6. Gentleness

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

**AN**: Here I am, once again! Thank you a million for the reviews I've received. I hope that I've given you insight as to which character this flashback is going to be about in the last chapter. If you've guessed correctly, then kudos to you! Without further ado.

Onward.

**Chapter 6**

**- Gentleness -**

When she thought no one was listening, she'd sing.

She had a lovely voice.

I paused in my cleaning to hear the words that came from the soft, rich melody. It was a song I'd never heard before, perhaps native to her hometown. That, in itself, made it more of a treat.

Then, abruptly, she stopped and I figured it was because she'd been caught in the act and was embarrassed for it. Guiltily, I turned back to folding the blanket I was holding wishing I had had the chance to savour the sound of happiness for a little longer. It was the next best thing to laughter, another thing that I loved to be party to.

As a child, I had not had much reason to laugh. When I grew older, it seemed like a sin to do so, a right that no one had. Songs had been replaced with screaming, amusement with death.

"Kenshin," Megumi's voice, no longer singing, was sharp and rebuking, bringing me out of the misery of my past. If she used my full name instead of her usual pet name for me, she was usually angry. "What are you doing?"

I cringed at the forbidding look she wore. When women got mad, they could get scary.

"G-good morning," I stuttered, trying my best to sound innocent. Unfortunately, she was not swayed.

"I thought I told you to rest!"

I wanted to protest but I knew better than to do so with an irate doctor who'd just caught her patient deliberately disobeying her orders. Instead, I carefully put down my burden and knelt on the floor with a defeated sigh.

She followed me down, tucking her feet underneath her with a grace that was unmatched by any.

This time, when she spoke, the sharp quality was lacking. "Well, if you're up and about disregarding my advice, you must be feeling better."

"I am," I agreed, almost anxiously. Truth be told, I was sick and tired of staying in bed and having to be waited on hand and foot. Sure, I was injured, but I wasn't an invalid. I hated appearing helpless and vulnerable.

Regarding me for a moment, she leaned back to retrieve her medical kit. "If you move around too quickly, you'll pull your stitches out," she said.

Under my breath, I muttered, "It's not like I was doing anything strenuous."

Yeah, I had a bad habit of being a smart-mouth.

"Strenuous or not, Ken-san, you need to let your body recover." She held up a fresh roll of bandages and I followed them with my eyes. A change of dressing usually meant a full cleaning and did those ever hurt! "Contrary to popular belief, you aren't as young as you used to be. You don't heal as quickly nor as easily as you might have in the past."

I knew I shouldn't have protested.

Without further ado, she instructed me to take off my shirt. She'd donned the figure of Dr. Takani now, all business. With practiced ease, she went about removing the old bandages and cleaning my wounds. The last battle had really taken its toll on me, I'll admit. Being unconscious for weeks and then bedridden afterwards must have scared her.

Throughout her administering, she kept up a constant flow of talk, telling me stories of her patients and the different types of things she had seen. Most of her stories, I noticed, were entertaining, almost as if she were skirting the darker side of her job. Or maybe it was her way of saying that she understood the fact that I'd seen my fair share of pain and suffering. Her way of protecting me from any more of it.

In any case, her chatter distracted me from the sting of the antiseptic and the bite of the needle and thread as she re-stitched wounds that, sure enough, had re-opened. I braced for the pain, the slight tremors running through my body the only sign of discomfort I was unable to mask.

Afterwards, she leaned back on her heels, scrutinizing me with her well-trained eyes. "All done," she announced, her voice laced with weariness. With concern. With sadness.

Bowing my head slightly, I thanked her and when I raised it again, it was to see tears brimming in her eyes.

"Megumi...?"

She leaned forward, slowly, wrapping her arms around my neck, burying her face into my shoulder, ever careful of my wounds. Her voice was thick when she spoke. "You...you've got to take better care of yourself..."

It was a plea, not as a doctor this time, but as a friend.

"You're only human," she was saying, "you don't need to impress anyone." Her hands caressed my bandaged arm in an absent way. "If not for yourself, then for others. Focus on getting better."

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to return her hug and succumbing to my weakness.

Around her, it was okay.

For now...

Just for now...I could let go.

Tomorrow, I could be strong again.

**To Be Continued…**

AN: There you have it! Megumi makes her appearance. Here's to hoping I did her justice. I wanted to show that she acknowledges the fact that Kenshin is not invincible like other people have made him out to be. Even he can get injured both inside and out. Bravados just don't work on doctors.

Until next time, thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	7. A Silent Cry

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

* * *

**AN:** Days off are the greatest things ever. Next to inspiration, that is. And you guys gave me that. Thank you!

Onward.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**- A Silent Cry -**

He was truly afraid.

He'd just forgotten something vital. He knew this because the void in his heart was extremely noticeable. More so than ever. It made him feel sick to the stomach and dizzy. More than anything, he wanted to go back.

But where?

Here was the missing link.

What had he forgotten?

He wracked his brain, but the words that the man (what was his name again?) had uttered to him the other day were muddled, unintelligible.

Despair threatened to crush him and it was all he could do to hold back tears.

_One thing at a time_, he decided.

He took a deep breath and with determination he began to sift through what he _did _know.

A man with long, dark hair wearing a cape and holding a sword, teaching.

A woman, washing her hands in order to perform surgery.

The symbol Evil written on the back of a young man.

It was the same man who...

Where was he?

He blinked, cut off from his endeavour by the troubling revelation.

The man was gone.

Vaguely, he remembered hot food, a kind touch and a familiar voice. Had he dreamed it all up? Had he, in his delirious state, concocted a bunch of false memories?

Oh dear God...he hoped not. No, he refused to believe it. Those people were real. They existed. And there were more, he was certain. More that were trapped within the cloud surrounding his brain. If he could just get it to lift...

It had to be lifted or else it would continually press down on him until he wasted away, left as nothing more than a shell of a person. He was exhausted with the effort of trying to prevent it from crushing him as it was.

His eyes travelled over a makeshift bedroll on the floor, the interwoven weed and straw crushed, indicating that a body had slept on top of it. The man, his friend, had really been here. It was proof that he wasn't completely insane.

Yet.

A sigh of relief passed through his chapped lips and he allowed himself to survey the rest of the space. The fire pit, now void of flames, still displayed a row of fish on their sticks, waiting to be eaten. The window, he noticed, had been propped open to let a fresh breeze in. Other than that, there were no signs of the person.

That meant he was alone again.

Somehow, that thought was a troubling one.

How could he have gotten so dependent in a single night?

He'd be left alone in the silence again, with nothing but his mind and the thought that he was slowly losing himself to...himself.

If he didn't remember, he'd die, he knew. He had to keep fighting.

With another deep breath of determination, he stumbled to the window, to get some fresh air and to shatter his world of silence. If the world remained still, he really would go insane.

The beach served its purpose in calming him down with the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the birds squawking at each other as they squabbled over whatever food they found.

He felt his tense muscles relax and he allowed himself to try and search his thoughts, prodding them tentatively at first, as if afraid they would disappear entirely if he pushed too hard. But they remained, albeit fuzzy.

Words came to mind again and he toyed with these on his tongue. A distant part of him realized that a few of them were the names he had managed to remember and he drew them close, relief that they had not been forgotten forever.

There was hope.

His fingers tightened over the windowsill in response to the resolve that he brought forth.

There was always hope.

He knew this because of the time when he had done the impossible task of turning someone back down the right path. This person had been moving straight toward darkness, chosen it, embraced the despair in his decision. Inside though, he'd known that he'd wanted to be rescued.

The silent cry had been heard.

And Kenshin had somehow done it.

Somehow, he'd do it again, but this time he'd answer his own call for help.

He had to.

Time was running out.

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** Yeah, I know this chapter was a filler-scene. I should have the next one out by tomorrow, though. Take a guess as to which person Kenshin remembered! Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	8. Solid Silence

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

* * *

**AN:** So here I am again with another chapter. You guys probably think I have nothing else better to do with my life. Fanfiction is such an awesome escape from my daily stress. That's all I have to say on the matter. I hope you enjoy.

Onward.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**- Solid Silence -**

I can't help but wonder.

What's going on in that head of his?

It's a bad habit to stare, one that I've not been able to break since my youth. But I like to watch, to observe. You can tell a lot through the things you see.

For example, the way a person moves their hands shows you their every intention. Callused palms in this day and age are the symbol of a swordsman. If hands wring, it's a pretty good indication that the person is prone to worrying. If they gesture while they talk, they are most likely spirited.

But Aoshi's hands were still, knitted, with the pads of his thumbs pressing against each other as he meditated.

No one could ever guess that the man had once been a mass murderer.

His face was just as stoic, just as glacial, no hint of any intent.

"Himura..."

I should have known that he would feel eyes on him. With a slight smile, I closed the sliding door behind me and padded toward him. It's a bit awkward the way he still calls me by my surname despite the years we've known each other. No amount of prodding will get him to change it to anything more familiar. Or maybe, it is his way of acknowledging our strange friendship.

"Sorry to interrupt," I hedged. "I've brought some tea."

His eyes opened and it was in his gray-blue stare that I was able to see guilt and pain. It was like looking in a mirror and my first reaction was to look away as my own shame threatened to surface again. Instead, I held his gaze, hoping that he understood that we were the same and that I understood. The only thing we could do was move on from the terrible things we'd done.

But let's not get into grisly details.

He made no move to answer, but then again, I never expected one. He wasn't one for conversation. I guess I made friends with all sorts. Taking his silence as an invitation, I moved the rest of the way in and placed the tray down carefully in front of him. All the while, he watched me and I gave him the opportunity to mask his feelings before glancing up at him again.

Sure enough, by that time, his face was blank, eyes expressionless.

One would think that being in company like his would be more than awkward, but I didn't mind it at all. In fact, I relished it. Sometimes, people had to take a step back and find a place of peace. That I could find it in the presence of another was quite a feat in and of itself.

Reaching out to take a cup, I set it before him. "If you'd allow me to do the honours..." I ventured.

His hands finally moved. "No," he said, simply. His tone was flat, giving away nothing of his thoughts or emotions and yet again, I was curious to know what was going on in his head.

The teapot was one crafted by a skilled potter that I knew very well, its accompanying glasses made by the same person. Where once the painted white blossoms on them used to turn me off from the set entirely, they now brought me a sense of peace.

I had to move on.

I guess that was the way Aoshi must have felt. No matter how much he mourned the death of his friends, or the deaths of others by his hand, he could not undo what had happened. In his own silent way, he was moving on.

"Winter is coming." The statement was simple, but brought with it so much meaning that I almost missed the fact that he had finished pouring me some tea.

Winter meant cold, memories of days huddled in caves or in forests with next to nothing to keep myself warm. It meant memories of weeks without food, of the struggle for survival. It meant memories of happiness, of dreams and of sadness and sorrow.

I wondered what it meant for Aoshi, for surely he would not have mentioned it if it held no significance for him.

Grasping the cup, I nodded, unsure how to respond. Apparently, I didn't need to because he finished pouring himself a drink and began to sip at it.

We sat there, facing each other, foes-turned-friends. I saw his eyes cloud, most probably as he reflected on his earlier statement. I don't think he had intended for me to see him let his guard down, but I saw it anyway and decided not to comment on it. Instead, I put down my glass, turning it in my palm-callused hands.

I chose my words carefully. "Spring follows soon after."

A small smile tugged at his lips and he closed his eyes again to resume drinking his tea.

I didn't have to wonder what he was thinking this time around because I was pretty sure I knew.

And so ended our conversation, with so little spoken, but so much said.

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** After the edit, I realize how hard it was to write Aoshi. At the same time, who really DOES know what's going on in that head of his? I had fun trying to explore his character, but honestly, I'm just as lost as Kenshin describes himself to be. Please comment and let me know how I did!

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	9. Taking Things For Granted

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V. **

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

* * *

**AN:** Major thanks to those who reviewed. I love hearing from you guys! It warms my heart and drives me to write more. So, with that said, here is the next chapter.

Onward.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**- Taking Things For Granted -**

The sky grew dark, and he glanced up at it, startled at how much time had passed since he'd lost himself in his thoughts.

His stomach complained loudly up at him, trying to remind him to put something substantial within.

He must have been getting better if he was able to remember the fact that he still had fish to eat. With a euphoric feeling at the small victory, he hurried toward the fire pit to help himself.

The fish was cold by now, but he didn't care. It still tasted heavenly and he went through three of them eagerly. Afterwards, he didn't bother to wash his hands, feeling like his energy had been spent on the once easy task of eating.

Now it occurred to him how much he used to take things for granted.

His knees shook to the point where he collapsed, unable to support his weight any longer. He managed to crawl back to his pallet and laboriously pull himself atop it, breath wheezing, fingers clutching at his bandaged chest.

When the pain and fatigue subsided slightly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, unable to pull himself fully erect. He doubted he would ever be able to do so again.

Yet again, another motion he'd taken for granted.

Being bent over, helpless and clueless were things he had never dreamed would happen to him. He remembered being strong, vivacious and healthy despite all the battles he had fought. He'd recovered quickly back then. Now...

As if to spite him, his chest squeezed painfully, and in response, he coughed until he felt like he'd vomit. His insides feeling like mush and head now pounding, he struggled to keep his mind afloat from a threatening fog that rose up to wrap itself around him.

Not this time.

He would stay sane if it was the last thing he did!

_But surely_, it whispered to him, _surely it must be easier to give up... _

Panting, he tried to straighten in order to get back his breath, trying to block out that haunting thought. He was greeted with the sound of his door crashing open.

_Sano..._

The word was on the tip of his tongue, but he was too tired to try and force it out of his mouth. Inwardly, he was pleased at having remembered so quickly, so effortlessly.

He hadn't lost himself yet.

The relief that washed through him, both at the recollection of the name and at seeing his friend, was short lived. Sanosuke was breathing just as heavily, using the doorframe to support himself. When he looked closer, it was because he was injured, his left leg wrapped poorly, the wound still seeping blood. In his left hand, he was tightly clutching a bloody sack and the metallic smell permeated the room. His friend didn't seem all that troubled by it because he smirked – that familiar, overconfident smirk – at him and said, "Sorry to keep you waiting. You and I are going to be eating tiger's meat tonight!"

Eyes widening slightly, he watched as his friend limped over to the fire pit. He stood to help and was met with a glare and a, "Don't you dare. You rest over there. I'll handle this." And Sano's voice was so full of disapproval that he sat back down.

Resigning himself to watch, he listened as Sanosuke spoke, his voice welcome and comforting, rising and falling like the tides he'd been watching all day. He started scratching at the hearth, removing the old firewood and replacing them with new ones. "Here in China, Tiger is rumoured to have healing properties. It'll give you back your strength and hopefully keep you from getting any worse."

The kindle caught flame and soon, the wood was burning, smoke filling the small shack. "My cooking might not be like yours, so you'll have to bear with me. It'll be edible. At least...I _hope_ it'll be edible," Sanosuke chuckled.

He felt his heart flutter at the sound of the laughter. It was, and always would be, his favourite thing to listen to. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly and his friend saw it because his own mouth stretched into a familiar grin that became him despite his gruff outward appearance.

How was it that he always became a burden to everyone? Wasn't he supposed to be the one to help people instead of the other way around? Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "S-Sorry..."

The smile on Sano's face stayed. "Don't be, Kenshin." He determinedly began to spear the meat onto sticks, the way he'd done to the fish. It had been cut into strips and chunks already and he set them around the fire. "You know I wouldn't do this for anyone else."

"Still...sorry..."

His friend brandished a stick at him, warningly in a playful way. "Say it again one more time and I'll really get mad."

The words and defiant glare triggered a memory. A smile, a full one, found its way onto Kenshin's lips. Where was he now, that fierce warrior? Did he still possess that fighting spirit? Did he still stand tall for what he believed in?

With all his might, he brought to mind the image of the youth and this time, when he said the words, it was to him, for the promise he'd nearly broken.

"Sorry..."

**To Be Continued...**

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**AN:** I did minimal research on Tiger Meat and its properties. According to Chinese Herbal and Medical Treatment, Tiger Meat is a delicacy used to boost health and erase symptoms. Anyway, thanks for stopping by for this installment. Please review!

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	10. The Eyes of a Warrior

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

* * *

**AN:** I know, I just updated. But I want to update while I have the chance and while I am inspired. "_Yubikiri Genman_" is a song usually sung by children as two people lock pinkies together and make a promise. 指切りげんまん、うそついたら針千本飲ます － 指切った. (Yubikiri genman, usutsuitara harisenbon nomasu, yubikita.) I didn't want to put the Japanese down below, so I put the English translation down instead.

Onward.

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**Chapter 10**

**The Eyes of a Warrior –**

His fingers were cool against my forehead. They slid to my cheeks, the fingers of one hand unconsciously tracing the cross-like scar I had gotten many years ago.

I guess I wasn't reacting the way he expected me to, because the next thing I knew, Yahiko was kneeling in front of me, his wide eyes peering into mine.

"Kenshin?"

"I'm here, Yahiko," I assured him, knowing that those were the words he wanted to hear rather than words of my well-being. He hadn't been asking if I was okay. He had been asking if I was present, both in mind and in body. I couldn't blame him. Especially not after I had withdrawn from all of them.

He seemed to relax slightly, but the worry did not leave his eyes. "Why are you just sitting here on the dojo's floor?"

"I was just resting," I said, but I could tell that he did not believe me. I guess the half-truth would have worked had he not felt the way my skin had been burning up.

His glare was quite menacing. "You know, if you're not feeling well, why don't you just say so?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it again promptly. Protesting now would only seem petty and childish. Yahiko may have been young, but he wasn't stupid. I felt bad that I'd worried him to begin with. "You're right. I'm sorry."

The way his eyes widened told me that he hadn't been expecting me to agree with him. He was like that; always ready to fight back if he knew he was in the right. He huffed, "Honestly! Why can't you ever admit something?" His face took on a petulant look and he scooted himself backward a little. "Kenshin...is it because you still think of me as a kid?"

The question was blunt, but pierced like a well-sharpened sword. I was many years his senior and since circumstances had led him to my company, I'd found myself in the role of his mentor. Compared to before, he'd tempered down, his uncoordinated movements starting to show signs of discipline. He'd grown into a very handsome boy, his features becoming sharper, more defined. After years of training, his senses had become more attuned to his surroundings. Most of the young ladies turned their heads his way. Even my son adored him and wanted to be just like him when he was older. But there was always going to be a part of me that would see him as the child who I had rescued off the streets.

The child who'd stolen my wallet.

The child with the warrior's eyes.

"Yes," I replied, truthfully.

A scowl started to form on his face and he spluttered, "What? How? I'm practically an adult! I even have a place to call my own. At my age - "

"-At your age, I was enlisted in a war, assigned to assassinate targets that were chosen for me," I interrupted. "I was still so very young. So very inexperienced and yet, I thought I stood on top of the world." He seemed to pale at my harsh words, but I didn't care. It wasn't often I spoke about my past. I tried to soften my tone a bit. "I wish I could go back and re-do those years and live my life as a child should have.

"Yahiko, you are still very young. Don't be in such a hurry to grow up. Experience life...don't rush it."

He regarded me solemnly. His fingers went up to ruffle through his unruly black hair. "I just want people to take me seriously."

I nodded, letting my head fall back to rest against one of the walls of the dojo. It was the one where all the names of the students who were learning swordsmanship were posted onto wooden blocks. My eyes wandered to Yahiko's name, remembering the past – had it been that long already? He'd always wanted us to take him seriously and I always had. I said so aloud and he gave me a doubtful look, allowing me, for a moment, to glimpse the child that was still within him.

"You'll have to forgive me," I told him. "After years of being alone, I learned to take care of my problems on my own."

He read right through that phrase, the smart kid – young adult, excuse me. "In other words, you don't want to be a burden on other people." I had to give him credit. Disappointment coloured his cheeks. "And once it gets out of hand, you become even more of a burden," he said. "Like that time when you just shut down on us."

I could not hide my flinch.

Yahiko was proving to be a worthy opponent with words. "Fair enough," I allowed. I was certain he didn't like talking about that time any more than I did my past.

The resentment in his eyes dissipated and he blinked up at me. "Make me a promise. Man to man."

I hummed uncertainly. I did not make promises lightly.

"Don't give up." The cutting edge to his tone was back, and I knew that if I disappointed him in this, I'd lose all the respect I'd garnered from him. "No matter how hard it gets, don't you ever give up on yourself again."

Oh.

_Oh!_

He hadn't been upset that I'd withdrawn from them. He'd been upset that I'd lost the will to live.

My eyes were so wide it hurt. I almost the missed the fact that he was talking again. His voice was low, harsh, full of tears that I knew he would never shed in front of me. "Promise me."

It was a children's ritual, a secure thing that even I had indulged in when I'd been younger. Once done, it gave assurance that words would be kept and taken seriously. I held out my pinky finger.

He recognized it for what it was, and he reached out to wrap his own pinky finger around mine, tugging at it slightly. It was like he was tugging at my heart and my mouth spilled the two words that he was looking for. "I promise."

To my surprise, he began to sing.

_"Pinky promise: if you tell a lie, drink a thousand needles and cut my finger." _

And with that, the promise was sealed.

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** The chapter was written with the intention of it happening sometime after the Jinchuu arc. Yahiko was referring to the time when Kenshin shut himself away in Rakuninmura. Even after years, Yahiko still has that fear that Kenshin would do it again. I hope it wasn't too confusing. Do cheer me up with some reviews and let me know what you thought!

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	11. Somewhere I Belong

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

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**AN:** Have I mentioned that you guys are the best? I think I have. But I'll say it again anyway! You guys are the best. Thanks so much for your inspiring reviews and comments. As always, it's such a pleasure and honor to receive them from you!

Onward.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**- Somewhere I Belong -**

"It may hurt a little, but it's gotta be done."

He didn't have time to register the words before the pain came. It filled his vision, his body, his world. It smashed into him with a pressure unlike before and dimly, he became aware that he was moaning and that his friend was saying things to him in a soothing way.

Sanosuke was being gentle, he knew, but still, it _hurt_.

Oh, it hurt so badly...

Desperately, he tried to retreat from the pain, imagining a room where he existed separate from it. It worked, if only a little, distracting his mind enough so that his friend could get through with the cleaning of his wounds without him thrashing around.

The room was a blur, his surroundings lost to him as he focused on the imaginary room and his friend's voice, using them as an anchor in the storm of pain.

After a while, the anguish lessened and he was able to make out the words that the man before him was murmuring. "It's all right, Kenshin. You're doing great. I'm almost done. You've held out very well."

"Held...out?" his voice was raspy, weak and pathetic when he parroted the words, but the man seemed elated to hear him speak.

"That's right. This treatment won't last forever, but at least it's something. The doctor said it should hold you for a couple of days."

Doctor?

Treatment?

What was he talking about?

The meaning of his words was lost to him in the cloud of confusion that took hold of his mind again. He battled against it with a sense of urgency.

_I cannot lose myself._

"And it looks like the Tiger Meat did you some good, too." Sanosuke sounded enthusiastic. Hopeful.

He thought hard.

...Yes. The Tiger Meat.

It had tasted...

Wonderful.

As if that one thought triggered some sort of switch, the haze began to unfold, leading a barrage of memories from the night before to come back to him in startling rapidity. It was so much that he gasped, trying to drink it all in.

It was alarming, but he didn't care. He wanted this. It made him feel more secure and less fearful.

Now, if he could just retain these memories…

"All done." Sanosuke leaned back on his heels to admire his handiwork. He was no doctor, but there was a part of Kenshin that knew he was in good hands. With an absent gaze, he watched as his friend washed his hands out in a basin beside him. Next to that were all the soiled bandages that he had peeled away from his body. The smell of rotting flesh was suffocating.

Catching his faraway look, Sanosuke knelt down in front of him again. "The road will be bumpy," he warned, "but it's better than staying in this hell hole, yeah?"

He did not respond, still too caught up in the vivid memory of sharing a fire and the delicious smell of cooking meat. Sano frowned at his lack of response but continued on, firmly. "It will take a while. I can't push you too hard, after all. But I promise you, Kenshin, I'll get you where you belong."

Where he belonged…

That opened up a new memory, not as clear as the ones he had just experienced, but enough to remember the sound of a cheerful voice. Full of spirit and life. It made him crave more than anything to leave – he hadn't realized how much he hated this awful shack.

He reached out, as if in an attempt to grasp the memory before it faded. Instead, his fingers found Sanosuke's shirt, fisting the material loosely. "Please…" he begged. "Please…"

Sano's steadier hand curled over his. "All right. It's all right. We'll go now. Hang in there, buddy."

Helping him rise to his feet, Kenshin did just that, hanging on to the memory with everything he had.

Because he knew that if he didn't, he would not survive the trip ahead.

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** Finally, they're going to leave the shack. I've in mind a few more memories, so I hope you'll stick around until the end. Please let me know your thoughts and thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	12. The Heart of a Child

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri by: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

* * *

**AN:** What a week! I think I'm running off of pure adrenaline now. Sleep sounds like a dream come true. Too bad it's not happening for me any time soon. So, I've whipped up another chapter and hopefully you will enjoy it.

Onward.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**- The Heart of a Child -**

"Himura!"

That was always how she addressed me, even though I'd told her time and again that she didn't have to be so formal with me. Being Misao, though, my protests usually went unheard.

She had the habit of listening to the things she wanted to and speaking her thoughts aloud. Her ideas were often farfetched and whimsical. She had all the enthusiasm of a child. She was charming, annoying and yet, endearing.

And let's just say…around Misao, it was hard to have a moment of peace.

I welcomed her energy though. It brought my spirits up and kept me entertained. It was just how she ticked, I supposed, and some people didn't like it but I guess it grew on me. It was her spirit that had accompanied me on the longest road I'd ever walked. It was her happiness that had given me courage and some measure of comfort from the loneliness I had felt.

Rounding the corner and throwing open the sliding door with so much force that the walls shuddered, Misao threw herself into the room. Her hair, plaited into one long braid, whipped around her slim frame, as if in an attempt to keep up. Her hands were clenched into fists and her green-blue eyes sparkled with that fierce spirit of hers.

Without slowing down or giving me the chance to greet her, she demanded, "Is it true?"

Wryly, I thought of what she would have done had she come in while I was dressing. She probably would not have noticed. She could have a one-tracked mind if she wanted. So, I cut to the chase. "Is what true?"

"That you guys are leaving for Tokyo tomorrow?"

Her devastated look made me smile. How could she have accepted a stranger like me so readily into her home? She reminded me of…

"We haven't even had time to play yet," she pouted.

Yeah, she was still a child.

"There are some things to finish up," I answered, vaguely. "Leaving things hanging…" Her pout was still firmly in place and I held up my hands to pacify her. "Don't be sad. It's not like it's goodbye forever."

A grin spread across her face, banishing her earlier disappointment, the mood change so abrupt that it was almost disturbing. "I know! I'll come visit you!"

"Of course," I said, with a nod, bewildered at how she could so easily swing back into cheerfulness. "I'd like that."

That seemed to set her at ease because she collapsed onto the floor in the dramatic way she had. "It's going to be boring without you around," she whined into the carpet.

Again, I had to smile at her childish antics. I tugged at the tie to my hair, musing silently how I had not done anything substantial to warrant the idea of my stay as being anything other than boring. Maybe my companions were able to keep her well-entertained. I preferred to watch them from the sidelines.

"Do you suppose we should throw you a going-away party?"

"Oh, no, please don't," I said. "I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble."

She squinted at me. "Himura, are you always this cold?"

Again, she didn't give me time to answer, but if I had had to, I would have agreed. I'll admit that I always found that I didn't quite fit in…

"If you don't lighten up, you'll become an old man right away!" she sang, springing to her feet.

Where on earth did she get all that energy from?

"Have you ever thought to stay here in Kyoto?"

No.

Most definitely not.

But she was off on her tangent again, including me (somehow) into her one-sided conversation. "You already know your way around. The people here are friendly and you'd fit in."

"I don't belong here." My voice, flat and disapproving, seemed to shake her from her eagerness. She stared at me, and I could not find it in me to drop my stern glower. "If anything, I want to get as far away as possible from here as I can. Kyoto holds no fondness for me whatsoever." And from the emotions that flickered across her face, I knew I had hurt her. "Please understand…there are too many bad memories."

Misao crossed her arms, hugging her abdomen. "I do understand. But I want you to know that here, you'll always be welcome. And I hope…I hope you come back. I want you to come back."

That meant more to me than she'll ever know. There was so much I could say to express my thoughts, but all that could come out of my suddenly-restricted throat was, "Thank you."

For all the new memories.

And these ones weren't bad.

Not bad at all.

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** Misao isn't all that easy to write either, is she? I hope I did her justice. Please let me know your thoughts in the form of reviews. I'd greatly appreciate it. Thanks for stopping by and reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	13. The Many Paths of Life

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

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AN: I'm currently sitting at a desk with my foot propped up because I stupidly twisted my ankle walking down the stairs. So I decided to update this while I was given the chance. I hope you all enjoy.

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**Chapter 13**

**- The Many Paths of Life - **

The road was long and seemed to have no end. Each jostle in the saddle had his joints screaming in pain that it was all he could do to hang on. Luckily, Sanosuke was sitting behind him, one arm secured around his middle so that he wouldn't fall off while the other held the reins to his horse.

They travelled for most of the day, rolling hillsides and trees to one side and the ocean on the other. They'd both learned that keeping the water in view was the best way to keep him calm. For some reason, without it, he felt insecure and lost and would fly into a fit if it was out of sight. When Sanosuke asked him what was wrong, he could not explain it, his words coming out as moans, garbled and unintelligible.

They were taking a longer route because according to Sano, it was not as riddled with thieves and bandits.

By the time the sun started to set, the poor man was delirious with pain. They were forced to stop for the night and take refuge just within the forest where the ocean could still be seen between the trees.

There, they feasted on whatever remained of the Tiger Meat before settling down for the night. Sanosuke did his best to make them comfortable and fell asleep soon after, no doubt exhausted from the journey and his efforts to keep everything – including his charge - in check. Tomorrow would be another difficult day.

Internally, he began his battle. The same one he fought again and again, but each time, he seemed to be losing ground. He fought against the sickness that threatened to take his life. He fought against his failing memory. He fought against the despair and helplessness that he felt at the confusion both were causing him.

_I'm weak…_

_I'm tired…_

_I want to sleep…_

_I want to **quit**. _

He pulled slow breaths, trying to calm his heart beat.

Quitting was not allowed.

On his side, he could just make out the moon sparkling on the waves. He needed to cross it, he knew that much. Wearily, he reached out a hand toward it, mouthing the names of friends, of the creatures he could hear, of the things he could see. When he tried to remember what he was doing here and where he was heading, he couldn't for the life of him.

It took a long time for the man to sleep, the pain in his body preventing him from finding a comfortable position. Eventually, exhaustion won out, and he curled up against his friend's big back to keep warm, letting the sound of the tide lull him to sleep.

The next day found him in a state of constant drowsiness. He faded in and out of sleep, his fatigue taking the edge off most of the pain during his waking hours. This time, Sanosuke had more trouble keeping him in the saddle and had to stop often.

They passed several fishing towns and small villages where his friend inquired about a boat that could take him across the ocean. They were directed from place to place, all of which he was not able to follow. When he woke, he was propped against buildings, against rocks, sometimes, stretched out on the ground next to the horse. Whatever the case, he took the opportunity to rest as much as he could.

By late afternoon, he was able to stand again, feeling much more alert. The food, the sleep, and the medicine seemed to be working. He felt as if he'd woken from a terrible, terrible nightmare and for the first time in days – Weeks? Months? – he started remember things in startlingly clarity.

His fingers clenched the railing he was standing by as he looked out over the water and the boats that were docked along the shore. His thoughts flew from memory to memory, drinking it all in. Anxiously, he wondered when the fog would return and snatch them all away again.

As if to spite him, he was distracted from them when he heard Sanosuke yell his name. Turning, he saw his friend running toward him, his cape flapping behind him almost comically with the way it was so tattered-looking.

"Kenshin! Kenshin! Good news!" His hands grabbed his shoulders, shaking him slightly with each emphatic word. "There's a boat that's leaving soon to Yokohama! They're willing to give you a ride!" He sounded torn between being excited and being miserable because of their inevitable parting. He was caught up in a hug that radiated relief. Kenshin was too busy being intent on his words to return the embrace.

"Once you get back to Japan - see the Lady - you'll be okay. All your memories will return." Sano pulled back to look down at him, his gaze roaming over his face as though memorizing it. His words became slower, either because he wanted Kenshin to understand him or because he was trying to prolong the moment. "I've asked for someone to help you out on the way." He paused before regretfully informing him, "I…I can't go back with you because I've got things that I've got to do so…so this is good-bye…"

This would be the last time they'd see each other.

As much as they both hated to acknowledge that haunting thought, it was the truth.

Kenshin stared up at him, the words stringing together in his mind along with all the memories of Sanosuke's companionship. He managed to find his voice under the lump in his throat. "Sa…no…suke…" he tried to smile, but felt his mouth twitching as he struggled not to cry and lose focus. "Th-thank you…"

Sanosuke's only response was to crush him against him once more. This time, Kenshin let his tears soak into his friend's shoulder. At that moment, he suddenly wished for the cloud of confusion to make its presence known again just so that he wouldn't have to feel such sorrow. It did not come, though, so he was forced to say a final good-bye before being herded onto the waiting ship.

He told himself not to look back for if he did, surely he'd fall apart.

It was always easier to walk away. He'd done it back then. He could do it again.

And so, with a heavy heart, he moved up the ramp, eyes ahead, the same mantra playing in his head from so long ago.

_Just keep walking… _

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** Wow. That was depressing. I can't even chalk it up to the pain of my ankle. Then again, this _is_ Seisouhen I'm writing about. In any case, if you liked it, hated it, didn't care about it, let me know! I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	14. Learning to Let Go

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V**.

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

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**AN: **I'm floating on a cloud of sugar right now. Happy Valentine's Day to everyone! I received your love through the form of reviews. Here's the next chapter for your enjoyment (hopefully).

**Chapter 14**

**- Learning to Let Go -**

One foot in front of the other, I kept up my pace no matter how cold.

No matter how tired.

_Just keep walking... _

Behind me, I could hear her footsteps. Lighter. Slower. Faltering. Her breath came out in pants and for the millionth time, I had to force my thoughts away from the bitter winds and the way they buffeted our bodies.

Focus.

Concentrating on the road ahead was a little more difficult than I'd thought it would be, especially since I felt responsible for the person who was with me. In an effort to encourage her, I announced, "We're almost there."

She puffed a response.

"This should be the last time we'll head to the village," I continued, in my most enthusiastic manner. Which, come to think of it, was not very enthusiastic at all given that I was not in any position to be happy those days. "It's a good thing we brought in enough of a harvest because the winter snows are coming on strong. We won't be able to go out again until all of it melts."

The sound of her stumbling caused my heart to squeeze painfully.

Was there no one who was safe with me?

Could I do no more than stand by and watch those that I'd come to love suffer?

No.

This time, I would offer my hand, not to cause harm, but to help.

It had been a while since I'd done that.

Her eyes looked at me warily, no doubt wondering what my intentions were. The gesture was intimate, despite the months we'd been living together. Any physical contact was usually avoided unless absolutely necessary. It was certainly the first time I offered her the chance to clutch onto me for support.

She could take it or leave it for all I cared.

And for some reason, I really wanted her to take it.

"We should hurry," I told her, gently, feeling like I was trying to coax a wounded animal into trusting me. "You'll get a cold at this rate."

Again, her dark eyes filled with confusion, something they'd been doing of late whenever I observed her. Maybe I wasn't being clear enough. "I'll protect you." The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them, the statement so powerful that I surprised even myself.

That was not what I had planned to say.

Protect her?

Protect her from what?

The weather?

The times?

...Myself?

Her eyes widened slightly, proof that she hadn't quite grasped what I meant either. She was as surprised as I was but I was much better at hiding it. I let her brood about it instead of trying to explain myself. I was pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to explain it very well anyway.

Hands now intertwined, I pulled her to her feet, keeping a hold of her just in case she stumbled again.

She did not complain.

Tomoe rarely did.

When we reached the house that I'd come to consider a home, she broke away from me, babbling some excuse that she needed to get started with supper right away. I made no move to stop her, heading deliberately toward the fire pit to help bring some warmth to the small living space that we shared.

Changing out of my wet clothes, I hung them up to dry and wrapped myself comfortably in a loose robe and blanket. "Do you need me to do anything?" I asked, but she adamantly declined.

While she changed into something warm, I found myself staring at the hand that had grasped hers. It was the same hand that wielded my sword.

The same hand that dealt death.

Could it really protect?

My eyes travelled to the sword that was propped up against the wall by my side. Its hilt was worn and would soon start cracking despite how carefully I tended to it. The sheath showed signs of wear and tear too, stained with the blood of many even though I scrubbed it clean after every use.

The blade...

I realized that my heart was pumping hard at the memories that were associated with it.

Suddenly, I was loath to touch my weapon ever again.

In somewhat of a panic, I retrieved my top, the one symbol of innocence and happiness I had left and clutched it to me. It was the embodiment of my humanity. There was nothing else...

Except...

When I glanced up, Tomoe was staring at me intently, her dark eyes scrutinizing.

Pitying.

_Except her._

I could live for her. Keep my principles and morals so long as I had her.

But did she want me?

_Could_ she want me?

"Tomoe..."

For an eternity, we stared at each other. She was elegance and beauty compared to me, a monster with my stained and suffering soul.

_Oh no..._

I was losing myself...

It wasn't her that needed protecting.

It was me!

A rustle in front of me snapped me out of my wallowing. Her hands, no longer trembling from the cold, gently took mine, prying them from the toy that I held in a death grip. The smell of white plums assaulted my nostrils and I breathed it in, gratefully. She knelt in front of me, so close that I could feel the strands of her long hair brush my arm.

Trembling, I drew the blanket over myself, feeling small in its folds. "Do you know why I never stay to help clean up the mess?"

I could tell she knew what I meant by mess. Dead bodies were usually taken care of by another team. I certainly provided them with enough. Disapproval wrote itself onto her face and I tried to ignore it. "It's always easier not to turn back. It doesn't help to get attached."

"You turned back for me today," she said, simply.

I swallowed, feeling a shiver run through me that was not due to the cold. I was not used to being open like this. That she had read through me so easily was somewhat disconcerting.

"I had to."

She seemed to understand. Slowly, ever so slowly, she put the toy down, never letting go of my hand. Showing me...

I did not need my childhood any more.

If all else failed, I could cling to what I had now.

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** I know there are those people out there don't like her but without Tomoe, we would not have our loving Rurouni right? So I have nothing against her. She helped make his story as awesome as it is. I hope you liked this instalment. We have a few more to go until it ends! Please leave me your thoughts!

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	15. Saving the Best For Last

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

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**AN:** I hope everyone's week is treating them better than it's been treating me! I must say, I haven't updated this often before in my entire time on this website. What kind of magic do you guys have? Please lend it to me more often! Haha!

Onward.

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**Chapter 15**

**- Saving the Best For Last -**

The stars were beautiful, the moon even more so.

Without the cover of trees, they were bright and so very many. He thought about counting each one but decided that it was too daunting of a task. Instead, he admired the way seemed to be arranged, like little candles on display.

"Excuse me, sir?"

The voice was distant, tugging at his mind, but he paid it no mind.

"Excuse me…sir?"

This time, he turned his amethyst eyes to the source, effectively distracted.

It was a sailor, dressed down in a dark brown uniform, complete with a hat. He was young yet, probably a few years older than his son. Unlike his son who had inherited his auburn locks and his mother's bright blue eyes, this man had dark hair and dark eyes. His accent proved that he was a native of Japan and it occurred to him that this was probably the man that Sanosuke had been talking about.

"Sir, if you'd like to come downstairs…" the sailor ventured, "It may start to rain…"

He held up his hands, searching his mind for the right words. He came up with, "No…want…stay here…"

The sailor seemed to be uncomfortable with his refusal. He briefly wondered what kind of bodily harm Sanosuke had promised the poor guy if he didn't make it back to Japan in one piece. "I'll be right back then, sir," the lad said and disappeared into the ship.

It was then that other voices and conversations began to float out to him. There were two men who were talking about their time in Shanghai. Closer to the back of the ship, there was a woman who was trying to usher her child off to bed. And finally, overhead, there were other sailors who called out orders to each other.

"And what about that guy over there? He doesn't look too good…"

"Maybe he's drunk."

"No, he looks sick."

It took him a moment to realize that the two men were now talking about him. He was used to having people do that. It had never bothered him before but, for some reason, hearing their hushed speculations did today. He was troubled that their observations were so close to the truth: he _wasn't_ well. His time was running out and he had not yet reached his goal.

He was going to die.

But he had to hang on until he'd accomplished his heart's desire.

Before he could ponder at what that actually was, the sailor was back, carrying a thick woollen blanket with him. "It's not going to be much if it rains," he said, proceeding to drape it carefully around him, "but it's better than nothing." He'd brought some food, too. Some rice and pickled vegetables.

The chopsticks were impossible to manoeuvre so he settled for tilting the bowl back and letting the food slide into his mouth. The sailor hovered around for a moment, talking to him, but his words became muddled because of the fatigue that pressed down on his shoulders. It was all he could do to finish his meal.

After a while, he was left alone.

It was in the solitude that he distinctly felt the loneliness in his heart.

How many people had he yet to say good bye to?

He realized that his memories were fading again. The wind picked up, rocking the boat, jarring his thoughts and scattering them to the furthest parts of his mind, where they were out of reach.

In despair, he hung his head and drew the blanket over himself.

It was going to be a rough ride indeed.

All through the night, he fought his battle, refusing to back down, refusing to give in. Thankfully, it did not rain.

By sunrise, he could only remember his name. He could not figure out where he was heading, or why. He wanted to ask someone, but he didn't know how. When the sailor came to help him, he did not understand a single word the man said. The gestures frightened him and he retreated into himself, where he watched everything in flaccid passivity.

He ate when he was given a meal.

He slept when he was tired.

He would not, however, leave the deck under any circumstance.

And so the days passed, each one rolling into the other to the point where he did not know where one ended and the other began.

His life was slowly slipping away from him. It was a chore just to move. Each breath rattled in his chest and often were the times where he would fall into a coughing fit. If someone helped him, he was unaware of it, too far gone in his mind, grasping onto strands, hopelessly failing when he tried to hold on.

It was no use.

His eyesight blurred, but he was able to make out the wood of the ship in front of him.

Something pink entered his line of vision and at first, he thought he was imagining things.

But it was a pink dot, settling in front of him, taunting him.

Slowly, he reached over to pinch it between his thumb and forefinger, terrified that it would wink out of existence. But it stayed, its velvet texture rubbing against the pads of his fingers.

It was...

A cherry blossom?

A strand of his memory whipped him so hard that he almost dropped the petal. It was a strand that had remained untouched, strong and whole as if his mind were saving it for last.

It was his ticket to everything.

His reason for struggling.

His hope.

His desire.

"Kaoru..."

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**AN:** I guess you can take a speculation about who he's remembered at last. If not…well, I can't really help you! You'll just have to come back for the next update to find out. Your thoughts on the material above would be appreciated. The next chapter will be the last and then the Epilogue. I hope you stick around until the end.

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	16. With Arms Wide Open

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri By: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies…_

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**AN:** Ah, this website. So amazing for the amount of stress-relief it gives me (and addiction, I must add) yet so frustrating because it always manages to have some sort of problem with it. Whatever the case, here is the next chapter. Thank you for coming back!

Onward.

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**Chapter 16**

**- With Arms Wide Open -**

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom again, the petals bright against the backdrop of gray-blue that made up the sky. Whenever the wind would blow, they would dance, scattering themselves in front of me as though heralding my arrival.

I used to be bothered by their sight. Their pink color had reminded me of blood. Now, however, they reminded me of –

"-Kenshin!"

The voice startled me out of my reverie and I paused in my steps as the familiar sound, so warm, so uplifting, so _loving_, washed over me.

Tightening the hold I had on my rucksack's string, I could not help but smile.

"Kenshin!"

The blossoms reminded me of _her_.

There she was, running toward me, her arms open wide as per usual when she saw me coming up the stretch.

A laugh escaped from my mouth – imagine that! Me...laughing! – and I held open my arms to catch her as she threw herself into them.

She was all energy, all beauty.

All mine.

"Kaoru!"

Her hug tightened around my waist as she buried her face into my chest.

God, I loved homecomings. She never failed to disappoint me. Never failed to –

"Welcome home!"

Again, a laugh bubbled out of me at the way Kaoru managed to distract my thoughts and somehow read them at the same time. "I'm back," I reassured her, returning her squeeze emphatically.

Bright blue, her eyes sparkled. It had become my favourite color because I could never stop admiring them. I could not help but wonder what they saw in me.

The hug lingered for a few moments longer, before I pulled away. "Thank you for coming out to meet me," I said.

Kaoru smiled and it made my whole world. "Of course. I knew you were coming."

I raised an eyebrow at that, taking her hand and leading us back the way she had come. "Oh?"

"I don't know," she giggled, "I can always tell. It's like..." she trailed off, most probably trying to find accurate words but finally shook her head. "I can't explain it." She leaned against me, and I adjusted a bit so that she could do so more comfortably. "How was your journey?"

I shifted my pack to my other hand. "It was lonely," I murmured.

She was quiet for a few moments, the only sounds were our footsteps crunching against the dirt ground that was now strewn with blossoms. She suddenly stopped, drawing me up short because of the way we were linked. "But you're okay." It was more of a question than a statement.

I smiled. "I am now," I answered. As long as she greeted me and welcomed me back home, the problems that I faced would melt away.

Her smile returned and I admired her courage and the way she put up with me; the way she put up with the path that I'd chosen. As if she'd read my mind, Kaoru touched my cheek. "Don't think about it," she commanded, quietly.

I began to say, "I couldn't -"

"-You can't save everyone, my dear."

The tension I'd been carrying with me since I got back to Tokyo ebbed a little at her wise words. She was right. She almost always was. It had been my choice to go out and help wherever needed. Graciously, she'd accepted my decision and my selfishness. Though I no longer wielded the sword, I could lend a helping hand when it came to the weak, the hungry and the hurt.

My atonement for all the sins I had committed.

It wasn't surprising to see that the road I had chosen to walk was one that was not frequented by many. Nobody cared for the unfortunates.

No matter what, I was grateful to have such an understanding partner. Until I was called to help out again, I did not want her out of my sight.

"It was the same, back then," I said, speaking my thoughts aloud, veering away from the sadness of the job I'd undertaken.

Kaoru raised her head, clearly puzzled. "Same?"

"The day we came back from Kyoto many years ago," I reminded her. "The day you offered me a permanent place to stay." In her home. In her heart. Before then, I'd wandered and had planned to keep doing so. "It was cherry blossom season."

She nodded. "Yes...you're right."

"Let's go watch them later," I suggested.

"We can invite everyone!"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes, if you want to."

It didn't take much to please her. She began to list everyone she could think of. She was still ticking off names by the time we reached our house's entrance.

Ah, how I'd dreamed of this moment for weeks!

I'd be able to have a home made meal and sleep in my own bed again. I was looking forward to a nice, relaxing soak. Spending time with my wife.

That didn't sound like a bad idea, either.

"Kenshin, what are you thinking?"

She'd stopped on the threshold after throwing open the door. Her beauty made my breath catch. I pulled her toward me, pressing her against the stone pillars that made up the door's post. A blush spread to her cheeks when I whispered, "That I love you."

Gently, I kissed her, relishing in the feel of her against me again. It was almost as if she were made for me, and I pushed up against her, hungrily. Her fingers found purchase in my hair, holding me in place as she kissed me back.

Just as I was about to deepen it, a voice rang out over the yard. "Ewww! Mom, dad…are you kissing?"

Little Kenji, dressed in a dark green robe, stood on the porch, rubbing the rest of his nap away from his eyes. "That's gross!" he whined, his voice rising in pitch at the very prospect of having caught us in the act.

I pushed away, chuckling and leaving a kiss on the top of her head.

Yeah…it was good to be back.

**To Be Continued…**

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**AN:** And Kaoru has her time in the limelight at last! What did you think? I can't wait to hear from you guys. The next chapter will wrap the story up for us in the form of an epilogue. Please come back to visit again!

Thanks for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


	17. Epilogue: KoToWaRi

**In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri by: P.P.V.V.**

_Disclaimer: The Standard Disclaim applies..._

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**AN:** _Self-Challenge_: _Man-Vs. Himself_ = complete. I hope I did it justice and did it well. A couple of notes:

_1) In Memories: Ko-To-Wa-Ri_ from the _Rurouni Kenshin Tsuiokuhen OST_ by Taku Iwasaki was named and produced in Romanized characters. I had the joys of a lifetime trying to translate it accurately. I didn't know if he wanted it as a verb, a noun, or an adjective. Sadly, I couldn't find one that actually made sense, but here you are:

断り: otherwise noted; disclaimer

事割：things crack

ことわり：disclaimer

断る：to politely refuse

2) The story is named thus, but honestly, I was listening to _Eclipse _from the _Rurouni Kenshin Seisouhen Original Theatrical Soundtrack_ the whole time I was writing this. But I do so love both tracks. Go ahead and download them if ever!

3) We've come to the end, everyone. Without further ado, here is the last chapter.

Onward.

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**Epilogue:**

**Ko-To-Wa-Ri**

He stumbled off the ship, feeling like his head was detached from his body.

The wharf was crowded with people, milling about, loading and carrying cargo. Encountering civilization so suddenly after experiencing solitude for so long frightened him; it was all he could do not to hide away.

People talked to him as he limped by, but he didn't notice. He must have seemed rude and crass when he did not respond, but his brain had only one thing in mind. He worked toward the goal with the remainder of his strength.

If he took the time to try and understand his surroundings, he knew he'd lose focus and everything would be lost.

Everything.

So, he let instinct take over. It was the easiest thing to do. Somehow, he knew that his feet were carrying him in the right direction. Vaguely, he registered his surroundings, the buildings, the roads, the colors and the sounds.

He grew tired quickly, and he began to lose hope that he'd ever reach his destination. More than once, he had to stop and take a seat, and more than once, he contemplated staying that way.

Rest.

_I want to rest…_

He did not want to fight any more. Was there no end to his struggle? When could he lie down? When could he claim more than a temporary victory?

_Just a little further. _

And up he'd get, to continue his journey, with those words ringing in his ears.

Slowly, he made his way through a town. He began to lose footing, exhaustion claiming the best of him. He hadn't pushed himself this hard since…

Since…

Well, he couldn't remember.

He longed for closure, but knew he would not have it until he reached the finish line.

Until he reached…

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

The snap made him flinch, but his apology came out unintelligible. Whoever it was he had bumped into probably thought he was drunk. Apparently, they didn't like his garbled sentence because he was shoved aside hard, causing him to stumble into a passing couple and making his wounds flare anew.

By the time his vision cleared, the man was gone and the couple was pushing past him, disgust clearly written on their faces.

No.

No…

They were not important.

Mentally, he urged himself forward.

Using the railing of the bridge he was on to push himself to his feet, he made sure he was steady enough before moving out again.

The pain became unbearable and he began to pant, mouth becoming as dry as dust.

That was minor.

The urgency in his heart increased and he forced himself to quicken his pace.

He was almost there.

Cherry blossoms fell like rain around him when he went around a bend. They clouded his sight momentarily, but he focused ahead, feet dragging, sandals snagging onto the dirt road.

In the distance, he could make out a figure, running down the same road, coming toward him, arms open wide to accept him as they always had in the past.

She was all energy.

All beauty.

His...

Heartbeat quickening, he pushed himself the last couple of steps, stumbling forward one last time, only to be caught up in her embrace.

Warmth enveloped him and he breathed in the scent of jasmine deeply.

Now.

Now, he could rest.

He held onto the memory of her so tightly, tighter than ever before, so that he could tell her that his journey – his battle - had come to a permanent end.

His voice rasped, but he had to say it. Had to let her know...

"I...I'm back...Kaoru..."

There were words.

And snippets of colors and places.

But mostly words.

_Home._

_Home_ was the word that came to mind most often.

At last.

He was home.

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**End**

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**AN:** To everyone who has supported me thus far, who have never failed to leave me reviews, who have read on despite the fact that Seisouhen is not dear to their hearts _at all_, I express my humblest thanks and gratitude. A special thanks to my best friend for encouraging me to finish and to write even though I was hesitant to post this story.

For the criticisms, suggestions, and the all-around awesome opinions and comments, I am so inspired. Please do so for me one last time. Thank you again for joining me on this journey and for reading,

-P.P.V.V.


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